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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674961">as long as i'm living (my baby you'll be)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds'>princessoftheworlds</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/transjackianto/pseuds/transjackianto'>transjackianto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Children, Big Finish References, Eventual Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, M/M, Single Parents</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:01:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds, https://archiveofourown.org/users/transjackianto/pseuds/transjackianto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not even a day into 2000, Jack Harkness is left the leader and sole operative of Torchwood - and sole parent to his daughter Alice. Eight months later, a young Ianto Jones finds himself the father of newborn Mica. Both fathers vow to keep their daughters safe at any cost, but that's hard to do when their lives are so deeply intertwined with Torchwood. And when tragedy sends Ianto to Torchwood Three, nothing's going to stop Jack and Ianto from falling for each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack finds himself the sole parent to his daughter Alice. Ianto becomes a teenage father. Torchwood intervenes in their lives.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, hiiiiii! You may ask why this exists, especially when Kai still has to finish Part Two of Only Fools Fall and I've promised spinoff fics from fool me once, fool me twice. To that I say, one day I asked Kai what a Torchwood AU with Jack and Ianto as single fathers would look like, and he replied with what a canonical version could perhaps be. Lo and behold, this AU was born. </p><p>It's essentially a canon rewrite but where janto both have young daughters. We haven't planned this out entirely, but we know that it will divert from canon mid-Season 2, meaning that there will be a happy ending. Everyone will live.</p><p>So far, the plan is for me (Nik/princessoftheworlds) to post chapters on Monday and for Kai (transjackianto) to post chapters on Saturday. Of course, that is subject to change, but we'll let you know if it does???</p><p>Anyways, that's enough rambling from me. Enjoy!</p><p>(Title's from a poem/picture book "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch that I was read as a kid. It's lovely, enough to make you sob. I recommend you check it out yourself.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>1999</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s late winter, middling into early spring, when Lucia comes to Jack and tells him, “I’m pregnant.” She gazes coolly at his incredulous expression. “I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not possible,” protests Jack. “We’ve been using protection.” He tries to think back to all the times they’ve had sex recently, but his memory catches on flickers of Lucia’s body writhing in pleasure beneath his, her dark eyes glinting with passion as they kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have been using protection, yes. Every time but once,” she reminds him. “Last month.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Early January, there had been a sudden rise in Weevil attacks, and Ariana had gotten badly wounded across the shoulder when Alex’s orders had them unexpectedly busting up a Weevil den. In the adrenaline rush afterwards, Jack had fucked Lucia against the brick wall of an alley, both of them too busy stripping each other of their clothes and snogging to remember the condom in the pocket of Jack’s greatcoat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not getting rid of it, are you?” Jack presumes. Lucia is one of the few Torchwood operatives Jack’s ever met who has managed to fiercely cling to her Catholicism among the danger and uncertainty of the stars and the Rift. Her faith, along with her fiery resolve and those pretty Italian features, are what originally drew Jack to her, though they had been quick to realize they would only work as friends who slept together. They are both too hot-headed and stubborn to ever be able to fall for each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I am keeping her,” Lucia replies, tucking a curling lock of dark hair behind her ear. Oddly, Jack notes that this entire time, she has not shown even the slightest hint of nerves. But then again, Lucia has always been fairly cold and calculating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Her</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Jack’s eyebrows raise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucia nods. “Some tech that fell through the Rift a decade ago. Alex insisted James scan me with it. He wanted to make sure that it was healthy and not somehow affected by Rift energy.” Now, her hands wring together, her chest quivering as she inhales sharply. “We’re having a girl. Will you help raise her with me? Will you be her father?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He's coming, the one you're looking for. But the century will turn twice before you find each other again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>One more year until the twenty-first century. A handful more before he is meant to meet the Doctor. It’s partly why he admires Lucia; he sees his resolve mirrored in her: she keeps her Catholicism, and he has faith that the Doctor will find him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This faith has ruined his marriage to his wife, kept him from putting down any roots, kept him distanced from anyone he could have loved, but when Lucia repeats her question, he looks into her clever dark eyes and tells her, “Yes, I’ll stay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It isn’t until September 26, 1999, when James gently places a quiet baby bundled in white cotton in Jack’s arms that Jack understands why. Alice Melissa Harkness squints sleepily up at Jack with dark eyes, Lucia’s eyes, and just a hint of </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>grin, and he falls instantly in love.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2000</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“</span><em><span>It's good you're here. Always did have great timing. This place, it's yours. Torchwood Three</span></em><span>,” Alex told him, eyes maniacal, Lucia’s body lying lifeless across the Hub, a precise bullethole through her forehead.</span> <span>“</span><em><span>My gift to you, Jack, for a century of service as field operative. Give this place a purpose before it's too late. Please.</span></em><span>” Moments later, he pulled the trigger and fell to the cement floor, also dead.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His blood is spattered across Jack’s face. He’s since scrubbed it clean, but he can still feel Alex’s blood there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Four hours ago, Jack had come through the cog wheel door, grinning and ready for festivities; now, he’s the lone survivor of Torchwood Three, the de facto leader, and a single parent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What am I going to do, Alice?” Jack asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His daughter, gnawing distractedly at the colorful rattle held in her fist, kicking her tiny booted feet against her carseat, doesn’t answer. She isn’t aware that her mother is now locked away in a cold storage drawer, never to tickle her into laughter again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack had wasted no time once he’d cleaned himself and the Hub up; after the horrors committed here tonight, he hadn’t wanted to stay separated from his daughter. She’s all he’s got, and she and Torchwood Three are solely his now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He buries his face in his hands, inhaling sharply. “What am I going to do?” His voice is muffled by the sleeves of his greatcoat, his chest heaving as his breath begins to come in shorter and shorter bursts. “I can’t stay here...I can’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>what Alex wanted me to be</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For over one hundred years, Jack had vowed to break free of Torchwood, and now that he has the chance, now that everything’s gone, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He has Alice, he has this fucking city and its fucking Rift, and he has the Plass above his head where the TARDIS will likely rematerialize.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a sudden clatter from behind him, and Jack’s head whips around, hands reaching for the Webley holstered at his waist, but it’s just Alice having dropped her rattle. She screws her face up, looking as if she’s about to cry, and Jack hurries to her side. He lifts the rattle to her, but she pushes it away, whimpering and once again kicking her furious limbs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An unexpected bubble of laughter escapes Jack as he breaks into a brief smile; quickly, he unbuckles his daughter and lifts her into his arms, bouncing her slightly. “It’s alright, Alice. Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s never going to let you go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Twenty-first century, Jack</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Alex’s Scottish burr echoes around his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything's gonna change</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alice babbles nonsensically into his ear, and Jack laughs again, voice cracking as he blinks back an abrupt onset of tears. “I’ve got you, Alice. It’s just you and me now.” He rubs his daughter’s back as she nestles against his chest. “Alex always loved his sayings.” He sighs. “The twenty-first century is when everything changes, Alice, sweetheart, and we’ll be ready, you and me.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2000</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mica Jones is born on August 3, 2000.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newly seventeen-year-old Ianto doesn’t get to meet his daughter until two weeks later, sitting on the couch in the living room of his childhood home. He glances down at her, and she gazes up with brown doe eyes that are too wide for this world; immediately, he feels an upwelling of youthful panic and nerves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do this,” he blurts out and looks pleadingly towards his mother, but Glenda is not the one who answers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you should have thought about that before you went messing about with that Phillips girl, boy,” his father snarls, the anger in his tone bitter and familiar. It’s made many reappearances since Ianto first broke the news to his parents; it’s only his mother’s intervention that kept him from landing on the streets.  “You’re lucky that her parents decided she would keep the child. Now they’ve moved her to America, so you’re never going to see her again. You better decide long and hard what you’re going to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rhiannon can always take darling Mica in,” Glenda says, passing before his father as she takes a seat next to her son, gently placing a hand over his where he clutches baby Mica. Ianto raises his gaze to where his sister stands in a corner, young David peering out from behind her leg. Johnny, thankfully, isn’t here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Johnny and I would love to raise Mica, Ianto,” Rhi tells him sympathetically, “but the decision has to be made by you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rhiannon would be a good mother, and her house has quieted down now that David is four, almost five. He’s a lonely boy who could use a friend, a younger sister to play with. Four years is the perfect age gap between siblings; he would make a good older brother. Never mind, Johnny as her father, but Mica would grow up happy and healthy and safe with Rhi as her mother and only ever knowing Ianto as her older distant uncle. He would come every birthday, take her to McDonalds or the movies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ianto glances back down at his daughter cradled in his lap, his father’s words still dancing through his ears. He thinks back to years of bruised knees, broken arms, and quiet tears, soothing whispers from his mother, hiding in the back garden from his father, fearing the harsh whiskey breath, the loud yells, the raised hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he decides abruptly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mica will never know the childhood I knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Mica will be raised happily with a parent who loves her and cares for her, despite barely being out of childhood himself, and the only way to guarantee that is for Ianto to keep her, to raise her, to be her father. No matter how happy Mica would be with Rhiannon, he is still selfish in wanting to protect his daughter; Ianto knows that much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” he says to his mother and Rhiannon but also his father, “I’m going to keep her. She’s my daughter; she’s my responsibility.” He smiles, mostly joy but with also just a hint of fear in his expression, down at Mica, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure no one ever hurts you, Mica, darling.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2002</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Usually the Rift is sporadic in its spikes, but two months into the year, the Rift has dumped  pulverized blasters, mangled Turkan translators, scraps of ancient books, and once - memorably - even a dog from Barcelona into Jack’s backyard, and he’s getting a little tired of it. Luckily, this time, his surprise is a young woman, most likely in her early to mid-twenties.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s surprisingly pretty, with a heart-shaped face, delicate features, brown doe eyes, and a sweep of mahogany brown hair down her back. Her grey jumpsuit crinkles below her knees as she pushes herself up from the dirty grass of Bute Park. “This isn’t Luna University, is it?” she asks hopefully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack shakes his head, stowing his Webley back in his holster once he realizes he no longer needs it. “Nope, sorry. 2002, Cardiff, Wales, Earth. You fell through a rip in space and time and landed here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, fuck,” she says to that. “I suppose you have no chance of getting me back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, the vortex manipulator that hasn’t worked in ages - not that he’s going to tell her about it - Torchwood has no time travel technology. Otherwise, Jack would have made good use of it ages ago. “Again, sorry. You’re stuck here now.” He nods to her, sidling closer. “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clara Oswin.” Her grip is firm as she shakes his hand. “You?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Captain Jack Harkness.” He smirks when she raises an eyebrow. “I’m Torchwood. We exist to monitor the Rift, the rip you fell through, and protect humans from the existence and threat of life beyond this planet.” Currently consisting of one member, but again, Clara doesn’t need to know that. “You’re taking this oddly well for someone who’s just been told they’ll never be able to go home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Side effect of the job,” Clara says. At Jack’s questioning glance: “I’m a student at Luna University in the fifty-first century. My advisor, Professor River Song, is quite the experienced time traveller.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, River!” Jack booms. “I haven’t thought of her in ages.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know Professor Song?” Clara fixes him with an assessing look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. “I get around.” In fact, the last time he saw her was when she popped here almost fifty years ago, still as cryptic as ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what happens to me now?” asks Clara quietly, just a hint of fear and anxiety creeping into her flippant tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She has a good question. He’s still working on setting up Flat Holm Island, although Clara seems too well-adjusted to need to be placed there, and he’s still running a one-man show in the Hub, so setting her up with papers and identity might be lower on his priority list as per say, fighting and capturing Weevils. Plus, he still has Alice sleeping in his flat, being looked after by Estelle; she’s too kind of a soul to say no to occasionally looking after her former lover’s “grandchild,” especially after Alice’s last four nannies quit. (Jack </span>
  <em>
    <span>is not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a helicopter parent; he can’t help it if Torchwood is dangerous, and he wants to protect his daughter the best he can.) But Estelle can’t watch Alice constantly or forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess you’re coming home with me,” Jack says decisively. “Just one question. How are you with small children?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2004</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three months ago, Ianto Jones’s father lost his job at Debenhams, walked out of their house, and fled Cardiff for London, taking all their savings with him. Since then, Glenda has been forced to take up the secretary job she quit after Ianto was born, and Ianto too is working. They’re paying their bills, barely, yet Ianto is freer and happier than he’s ever been now that his father is gone. His mother and Rhiannon, however, do not feel the same way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, Ianto, please,” his mother says to him from where she sits in the overstuffed armchair in the corner. Her forehead is lined with wrinkles that weren’t there a month or two ago. “Please go to London and bring back your father.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum, please…” Ianto sighs. He cannot argue with his mum, his mother who he loves dearly despite how little she understands him. She loves him to bits in return. Instead, he glances towards the couch where Rhiannon sits with a toddler Mica in his lap. “I can’t leave Mica. I can’t just go off to London and leave my daughter behind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That is exactly, after all, what he vowed never to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll watch her,” Rhi promises. “I’ll watch Mica, Ianto. She’ll have a lovely time staying with her auntie for a few months. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Won’t you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mica</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” She reaches up to gently pinch Mica’s smooth cheeks, still rounded with baby fat. Ianto resists the urge to straighten out his daughter’s gingham dress. “She can play with David and eat all the sweets she wants.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t feed my daughter sweets,” Ianto complains, wringing his hands together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least she eats her vegetables,” Rhi replies, fixing him with a stern glare. “You still don’t.” She bounces Mica slightly in her lap, and the little girl giggles. His sister smiles hopefully at him. “Go to London, Ianto; find Dad. Johnny and I will take care of Mica.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mutters and dodges Rhiannon tossing a pillow at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rhiannon,” Glenda says sharply, and his sister looks chastised despite Mica’s growing giggles. His mother’s voice softens. “Ianto, darling, please. Find your father. You want your family to stay complete, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could never say no to his mother, not when she asked him like that. “Fine,” he replies, meeting no one’s gaze as he stares down at the faded carpet. “I’ll go to London, I’ll find Dad, and I’ll bring him back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ianto strides over to the couch and takes Mica into his arms; for such a small child, she’s surprisingly heavy. She nestles her head against his shoulder as he secures one of the bows in her light-colored hair and breathes in her warm baby scent. “I love you, Mica, darling,” he tells her. “I won’t be leaving for long. I’ll be back soon, I promise you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When, Taddy?” Mica asks in his ear, and he doesn’t know how much of the implications his daughter understands, but she’s solid and squirmy in his grip as she grabs the collar of his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Soon, Mica. I promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Handing Mica to Rhiannon might be the hardest thing Ianto’s done at age twenty, right after walking out the front door and boarding the train to London. He feels the full weight of the iron pit in his chest that formed there when Mica was first handed to him. London is going to change a lot of things, but little does he know the extent.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find Nik on tumblr <a></a><a href="http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/">here</a> or on Twitter  <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik">here</a>. Find Kai on Twitter <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/transjackianto">here</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ianto heads to London to search for his dad and meets a mysterious woman. Clara has some choice words for Jack.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi all, Kai here (transjackianto), welcome to our fic! Now, I'm a sucker for canon-based AUs, and I'm also a sucker for a good kid!fic. Like, what Nik (princessoftheworlds) said, I hope you enjoy this AU that we are building :)</p><p>I'm glad you're enjoying it so far :D</p><p>This chapter heavily features events from Big Finish: Torchwood One - Blind Summit and makes references to other Torchwood One audio dramas.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>2004</b>
</p><p>
  <b>London</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The sound of an alarm going off encroaches on the first bit of sleep that Ianto has got in months. He really hates alarm clocks. He also hates the landlord that came with the flat he found his father in. <em> Bastard </em>, he thinks as he punches the alarm clock with a shout.</p><p> </p><p>Ianto’s next few days just go downhill from there.</p><p> </p><p>Finding his hungover-and-probably-still-drunk father in the living room pissing on the floor just after he woke up is a highlight.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Don’t think we should stay here much longer. Don’t think it’s helping. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Also, he really does just want to drag his father back to Cardiff.</p><p> </p><p>Only in fucking London will his place of work be shot to pieces by a man who has watched too much Terminator and will he end up having to protect a woman who he doesn’t know but looks vaguely familiar.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “So, Ianto Jones, my name is Yvonne Hartman, and I work for an organisation called Torchwood.” </em>
</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Sorry, I really am. For everything. It’s important you hear that, Ianto. I- I didn’t know your situation was as horrible as it is. With your Dad and everything.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I feel, uh-” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Tell me you know I’m sorry.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I know. Yeah. Why do I feel so sleepy? Is it that ‘Arach’ thing.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “No. It’s because I’ve drugged you. Again, I feel awful about it. I really do. I needed to tell you I was sorry. I needed you to hear me. And now, I’m getting tearful. I never do. It must be the gin.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “If you’re sorry, um, but why have you drugged me?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Because I’ve just told you secrets that could threaten national security. And no one sees me cry.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Look, who are you?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Sorry, sorry. Yvonne. Yvonne Hartman.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yvonne… Hartman… Ianto.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Jones? Yes, I know all that. To save us all a lot of time I implanted my name as a telepathic trigger. You hear it; you trust it, you protect me.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I… what?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “It’s very efficient. So, here’s what you need to know: your father’s gone missing. Maybe he’s been abducted by Blind Summit to experiment on. You know what happens. We both want to stop that. And I’m going to help you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You are?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I work for a top-secret organisation. We’ve had our eye on you for some time now. We know everything about you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Me?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I want to offer you a job. For Queen and country. We need someone of your type to carry out a very sensitive and undercover mission.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “So, I’ve paid off your landlord - lovely man; I’ve also arranged for Special Branch to seize his laptop next week. There’s some horrific stuff on his hard drive. Well, there is now.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Wow.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “So, the flat’s yours. I’ve even had the pest control around.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Steve?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “All that’s left is your father, here.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yeah. You did promise you’d treat him.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I did. But we can also remove him.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Remove him?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “From your memories. He’s done so much to your family. He holds you all back. Don’t you want to be free of it all?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You mean Retcon us? What would happen to him?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Who cares? He doesn’t deserve you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “No, but my sister deserves a dad and our children deserve a grandad.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Well, it’s up to you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yeah, it is.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry for the way I used you, Ianto. I let things get out of hand.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yeah.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Is there anything I can do? You could come and work for us. For me. There’s an opening.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “No. I’d be afraid I’d become like you. I don’t want to have to keep secrets. I don’t want to have to constantly deceive everyone. And I know I’d have to. And I’d probably end up pretty good at it.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yes. I rather think you would. Pity.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “No. I wanna be free of you lot. Go back to Wales. I might need some help getting my job back at the museum.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Consider it done.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “And, wipe my memory. One last time. I want all of Torchwood gone, okay?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Oh, I hate to let the good ones get away. Well, fair enough. To Torchwood?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “To Torchwood.” </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2004</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Jack is sitting at his desk filling out some paperwork when the door to his office opens with a bang. He stares studiously at his hand moving across the page as the sound of heeled boots clicks across the length of the room. When no words are forthcoming from his guest, Jack opens his mouth and starts on one of his famous tales, still not looking up from his desk. “I had a boyfriend who used to walk into rooms like that. The grand entrance. It got kind of boring. Although he was one of twins, so I put up with it. Twin acrobats. Man, I gotta write that book. Maybe even illustrate it.” The pacing stops in front of his desk, and he can see jean-clad legs out of the corner of his eye. “I can talk for a long time. A very long time.”</p><p> </p><p>A Northern-accented voice interrupts him finally as a pair of dainty hands slams down on the edge of the desk, “This needs to stop.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack looks up into the determined face of his friend-come-nanny and feels his own mask of calm neutrality fall across his own. “Meaning?”</p><p> </p><p>Clara’s eyes narrow as she leans further over the desk. “You can’t keep calling me in to help out with Rift, Jack.” She holds up a hand as he goes to interrupt her. “The Rift is becoming more and more active all the time, and you know I’m always here to help you out. But something’s got to give!” She gestures out towards the Hub beyond his window. “I’m spending more and more time here helping you, and less time doing what I agreed to do - watching your daughter. It isn’t fair to Estelle that I keep dumping Alice on her all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack breathes out slowly through his nose as he leans back into his chair. Crossing his arms across his chest, he tilts his head to the side. “What do you want me to do? It’s not my fault.”</p><p> </p><p>Clara raises an eyebrow, laughing incredulously. “You’re kidding me, right? Do what I’ve been telling you from the start. You need to hire more people, Jack.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack shakes his head. “No way. I told you I don’t trust anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“You need to start trusting some people, Jack!” </p><p> </p><p>When Jack just continues to stare at her, Clara takes a deep breath and quietly affirms, “What if something happens to Alice while I’m not there to protect her? You hired me because you wanted a bodyguard as much as a nanny. You know your life is dangerous. What if, while we are off saving the day, someone tries to break in and kidnap her to get at you?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Well, that was a low blow </em>, Jack thinks, grimacing at his words being thrown back in his face. He knows he is being stubborn about hiring more people, but is it really worth the risk to Alice’s life? Jack slumps back into his chair, knowing that Clara has won this argument. </p><p> </p><p>“And, where, exactly, am I supposed to hire these people from? I don’t trust Torchwood One, and I don’t trust UNIT. It isn’t exactly something I can advertise in the paper for.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack watches as a triumphant smile blooms across Clara’s face, a sense of dread likewise blooming in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I have been waiting for this moment.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2005</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It is a bright winter’s morning the day he is approached at the school gate by a ‘mysterious’ woman.</p><p> </p><p>He has been back living in Cardiff since he brought his father home. Those few months he had spent away from Mica had been some of the hardest months of his life. He never wanted to have to leave her ever again. The moment he had stepped foot off that train and saw his daughter in the arms of his mother, he had ran and hugged the both of them as tightly as he could.</p><p> </p><p>The interruption in his daily routine was an unwelcome one. His day had started off interesting enough with trying to wrangle a four-year-old into a polo shirt, jumper, skirt, and tights, which was hard enough to do on a regular day, let alone a day where he was radiating excitable energy due to the new project he was starting at work.</p><p> </p><p>Ianto kissed Mica on the forehead gently, giving her a tight hug. He passed her her book bag and her lunch box before shooing her towards the school gate. “I’ll see you later, love. Have a good day!”</p><p> </p><p>After Mica disappeared into the school building, he was tapped on the shoulder and turned around with an inquisitive, “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>In front of him was a tall blonde woman in a business suit with an expectant look on her face. “Mr. Jones, I understand you’re overseeing the excavation of the Viking ship.”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto raised an eyebrow at her. Turning up at his daughter’s school to talk about work really was rather rude, let alone plain weird. “Yes.” He stared at her for a moment, before a bell went off in his head as she held out a small ID card. “You must be from the British Museum. Rather unorthodox of you meeting me here and not at the site where you were supposed to meet me.” His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead as he gave her a judging look. “And how do you know I’d be here?”</p><p> </p><p>She gave him a smile that she probably thought was reassuring but just made Ianto more wary. “There’s no time to explain.” She looped her arm around Ianto’s and started walking him towards his car. “The ship, you have no idea what you’ve got your hands on. South Wales is in grave danger.” He throws her a sceptical look. “This wouldn’t usually fall under our jurisdiction, but every member of our Cardiff branch is missing.”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto laughed at her. She sounded like she was in some heroic action film. She was having him on, surely? “Danger? But it’s just an old ship.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighed loudly. “Mr. Jones, this is going to be a lot to take in, but I know you can handle it. I work for an organisation called Torchwood. My name is Yvonne Hartman.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2005</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Upon entering the holding facility that houses his hopeful next recruit, Jack’s estimation of UNIT goes down in his eyes. The place looks filthy, and it doesn’t look like they even allow their prisoners to clean themselves properly, either. He notices there are also bruises on her face. Jack looks across the table at the small cowering figure, becoming angrier and angrier at her plight. He tries to tamp it down, playing cool for the various CCTV cameras and not wanting the woman in front of him to think his anger is being directed at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Catering’s as lousy as they say, huh?” Jack begins gently, watching as she plays with the steaming mug in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>Throughout the conversation with Toshiko, Jack attempts to act mysterious and charming.</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nobody. I don’t exist. And for a man with my charisma, that is quite an achievement.”</p><p> </p><p>He can hear Clara in his head laughing at him. He knows he’s playing up to the cameras and the UNIT soldiers watching, but he feels it’s necessary. If he acts too kindly towards her, he’s afraid that they won’t let him get her out of there.</p><p> </p><p>The woman in front of him has no idea how special she is, how talented she is. She doesn’t deserve to be a bird trapped in a cold metal cage. </p><p> </p><p>“What I’m trying to say is… oh, baby, you’re good. I mean, you’re good now. Imagine what you’d be like with a little training.” He looks away from her to stare into the distance. “Oh! Shame you’re gonna be locked up for so long.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got to get me out of here!”</p><p> </p><p>“If…” Jack says, pointing at her. “You come work for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Give me five years, I’ll get them to wipe your record clean. They owe me a few favours.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Protect people. At least, that’s what I’m aiming for. It’s kind of a work in progress.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about my mother?”</p><p> </p><p>“Limited contact only. You can send her postcards.” </p><p> </p><p>Jack knows he won’t keep to this. He will cave eventually, but he needs to look like he’s punishing her a little for her actions. One, for the UNIT soldiers watching, but also, two, for Toshiko herself. If it seems like his offer is too good to be true, he doesn’t know if she will believe him and walk out of there.</p><p> </p><p>He grins at her. “So, what do you say?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would you trust me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Instinct.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2005-2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>London &amp; Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Moving to London was probably the hardest thing Ianto ever did. </p><p> </p><p>Ianto couldn’t turn down an opportunity like Torchwood. They didn’t come around that often. Torchwood offered a nine-to-five Monday-to-Friday job with really good pay, but he was actually doing something to help. It was like becoming James Bond… a bit.</p><p> </p><p>Leaving Mica behind in Cardiff was heart-wrenching, but with her having just settled into school and started making friends, he did not want to move her to a city she didn’t know. Leaving her in the hands of his mother and sister during the week, and visiting Cardiff on weekends and whenever he had an early evening, was the best he could offer.</p><p> </p><p>They made it work. It sometimes made him feel like a terrible father, but he was making the world a safer place for his daughter. What else could he do?</p><p> </p><p>Torchwood was a relatively safe job, and working as the director of the Institute’s PA would bring excitement to his life but also so many bonuses. Relatively safe.</p><p> </p><p>Ianto met Adeola Oshodi not long after he moved from junior researcher to his current job as Yvonne’s PA. They had a lot in common. They were both from working class backgrounds and were trying to make a better life for themselves. They had similar senses of humour. Adeola became his best friend while at the Tower. Adeola introduced him to her cousin Leticia (“Tish, please”) whom she was very close to. Adeola, Tish, and Ianto would regularly go out for drinks and talk about their lives. Tish had a similar job to Ianto as a PA, but she didn’t enjoy it very much. </p><p> </p><p>It was Yvonne Hartman that introduced him to Lisa Hallett in the cafeteria one day. Lisa was a beautiful woman that worked in HR, and she laughed at his stupid jokes with this big beaming smile. It wasn’t perfect. Their first date was a disaster. Maybe it was because Lisa was the first person Ianto went on a date with since Mica had been born. Ianto went on to date another woman who ended up trying to overthrow Yvonne in a coup. <em> Good riddance to Rachel. </em> But his second date with Lisa was perfect. She made him smile. He made her smile. They made each other happy.</p><p> </p><p>Spending the weekends with Mica made him the happiest. It was upsetting to watch his daughter grow up without him, but she was doing so well in school that he couldn’t bear to move her to London away from her friends.</p><p> </p><p>Everything falls to shit on an ordinary Friday.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a Friday that he had booked off work to spend with his mother and Mica. It’s Mica’s sports day, and he had been looking forward to it. But like with everything in his life, it has to go wrong. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Ianto, I know it’s your day off, but you need to get back here. It’s him. It’s the Doctor. He’s coming to the Tower.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>With a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek, Ianto rushes out of her house and to the train station to catch the next one to London. He doesn’t want to miss Mica’s sports day. But Yvonne won’t forgive him if he doesn’t go back.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Ianto Jones, you better be on your way back here; I need you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>By the time Ianto arrives at the Tower, it’s carnage.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Ianto, the sphere opened up, and Daleks came out. It’s a battlefield. I don’t know how we are going to stop this. The ghosts were Cybermen. I was wrong. We shouldn’t have tried to open the breach. I’m sorry. But I did my duty for Queen and Country.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He knows that UNIT will be coming to put up barricades and take control of the situation, but he needs to get in there. He needs to find out if Lisa is okay. If Yvonne is okay. If Adeola is okay. If Kieran is okay… The list goes on and on in his head as he rushes up towards the top of the Tower. He’s lucky he is so in shape. He pulls out his mobile as he runs and listens to the various voicemails that Yvonne must have left him while he was on the train and Tube. When he eventually arrives at the top floor, the eerie silence is replaced with anguished cries and sobbing and painful screaming. He braces himself for what he is going to find. </p><p> </p><p>He finds Kieran and Lisa in metal contraptions. They are barely breathing.</p><p> </p><p>Ianto collapses onto his knees between them both. He reaches out a hand and grabs Lisa’s with his own. “Lisa?” He doesn’t recognise his own voice. It is hoarse. He’s probably crying.</p><p> </p><p>Lisa turns her head towards him and opens her tear-filled eyes. “Ianto?”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto shakes his head quickly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to save you.”</p><p> </p><p>Lisa’s lips lift into a small smile. “It’s okay. I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>He manages to get out a reply of, “I love you, too,” before he breaks down into sobs as he watches the life leave Lisa’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>Ianto never expected to be in a warehouse on top of his hopefully-future-boss after trying to capture a prehistoric animal. But here they are. </p><p> </p><p>He had thought about going back to the museum he had worked at before London but, one, his old job was no longer available, and two, he didn’t know how he could go back to a normal job after working for Torchwood. The compensation he had been given as hush money and the NDAs he had had to sign so he didn’t lose all his memories were great and all, but he missed having a purpose. He had heard all of the stories from Yvonne of the infamous leader of Torchwood Cardiff. Captain Jack Harkness was an arrogant prick who was a liability to the Institute, but he had also saved the city that Ianto’s daughter called home more times than he could count. Jack Harkness was also a consummate flirt who would “shag anything if it was gorgeous enough.” Ianto wasn’t arrogant enough to think he was gorgeous, but he had been told enough times from Lisa, Kieran, Adeola, and Tish that he was good-looking, so he could use that to his advantage, right? His heart still hurt at the thought of Lisa and Kieran dead in the conversion units and Adeola’s name on the list of the deceased.</p><p> </p><p>Trying to get Jack Harkness to give him a job had ended up with him laying on top of the other man. Their breathless laughing was echoing in the warehouse where they lay as they stared at the unconscious body of the pteranodon.</p><p> </p><p>Their eyes lock onto each other as their laughing slows and comes to a stop. </p><p> </p><p>Ianto breathes in deeply. <em> Fifty-first century pheromones, eh? What the fuck? </em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t want to end up nuzzling his nose against the older man’s, but here he is.</p><p> </p><p>Jack lifts his chin up like he wants to kiss Ianto, his eyes burning with desire which probably reflected in his own. The man below him is gorgeous and smells heavenly, but he is still mourning Lisa. He can’t do this.</p><p> </p><p>Ianto lifts his head back away from Jack’s. “I should go,” he says softly. He should really go. No matter how good-looking Jack is. He really should. His body finally listens to his brain as he scrambles up and begins to walk away from the other man.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto comes to a stop at that brash American accent. <em> Please don’t ask me to stay. I don’t know if I can stop myself. Please don’t. </em> He turns his head to the side but doesn’t turn to face Jack.</p><p> </p><p>“Report for work first thing tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto breathes a sigh of relief as he gathers the courage to walk away again. He is so glad that he came away from this with a job. He didn’t think he could deal with trying to track Jack down again. That threat of vehicular homicide from the other man is still ringing in his ears. But then Jack did seem concerned for his well-being when Ianto offered to be bait for the creature on the floor. Jack Harkness is very confusing.</p><p> </p><p>“Like the suit, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>The flirtatious comment almost catches him by surprise. He can do this. He can start over with a new job. Some healthy flirting with a very attractive man never hurt anyone, right?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find Nik on tumblr <a href="http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/">here</a> or on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik">here</a>. Find Kai on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/transjackianto">here</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack and Ianto set up a balance between their lives at Torchwood and their daughters at home. Ianto finds a nanny in an old friend.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello all! Kai (transjackianto) here again! This is actually Nik's (princessoftheworld) chapter but as she is busy doing finals, I am posting this for her.</p><p>We are so glad that you are all enjoying this! I hope you continue to stay with us as we world build :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have I told you how much I appreciate you lately?” Jack asks as he takes in a deep whiff of the strong coffee that Ianto places on the corner of his desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you talking to me or the coffee, sir?” Ianto quips back as he tucks the tray he used to carry the coffees underneath his arm and leans down to tidy some papers. Jack ogles the graceful arc of Ianto’s back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the last month since Ianto’s joined, Jack has kept an eye on Torchwood Three’s newest employee for two main reasons. One, Ianto’s from Torchwood London, and based on Jack and Yvonne having never really seen eye-to-eye no matter how they highly regarded each other, he’s waiting to see if Ianto harbors any of the same sentiments as his former employer, even if he was just a junior researcher there. Second, Ianto is quite reserved for a man who faced the demons that he did at Canary Wharf, and Jack is steeling himself for any potential backlash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Ianto is particularly pretty, with a Welsh accent that causes Jack’s skin to prickle pleasantly, and comes packaged in neat suits that hug his lean body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Definitely the coffee,” replies Jack as he sips from his cup, placing it back down and giving Ianto a charming smile that brings a shading of pink to the other man’s fair cheeks. “But you don’t hurt either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad, sir.” Ianto grins slightly at him. “I aim to please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, and he tries very hard not to picture Ianto on his knees before him. He made a vow when he took over Torchwood Three not to sleep with any of his employees, and so far, it’s held. Clara, while not technically a Torchwood employee and also gay as hell, was never in the picture. Suzie has already established that she has no time for Jack’s flirting nor would she be receptive to him putting the moves on her, and Tosh, too, has started to show a bit of her edge by rolling her eyes every time Jack tries to playfully charm her. And Owen is too foul-mouthed and prickly. Ianto is the only one who can match Jack in banter and has seemed receptive, and it’s already taking Jack everything he has to resist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am very glad to hear that.” Jack offers Ianto an impromptu mini-salute. “Very glad. We need someone keeping the team on track.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time it hits noon, it’s already become apparent that it’s going to be a slow, </span>
  <em>
    <span>slow </span>
  </em>
  <span>day with not even a sign of a Weevil stirring. The rest of the team has busied themselves, and Ianto has long since excused himself from Jack’s office, saying he needed to work in the archives. Jack hasn’t seen him since, nor does he expect to. Their archives are a mess. (There was only so much Jack could single-handedly do to keep this place running before Clara yelled at him.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to Torchwood,” Owen mocks during lunch. “One day, you’re saving the police commissioner from being eaten by a Hoix. Next, you’re checking up on case files from the eighties out of boredom.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It can’t always be exciting,” Jack reminds him, chuckling. Suzie rolls her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mind you, it’s better than when Jack and I were running all over Cardiff alone for several months before Tosh joined,” she tells Owen, who scowls. “You’re lucky enough to have a team.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack may have a rule against sleeping with his employees, but that doesn’t stop them from sleeping with each other. Although, judging by the slightly jealous looks Tosh keeps sending Suzie and Owen, there could be a reason to implement some kind of HR policy soon. Maybe he could have Ianto draw something up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>General support</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>receptionist</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maintenance</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>butler</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>archivist</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and HR</span>
  </em>
  <span>, thinks Jack. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The man wears many hats</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Next: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He would look good in </span>
  </em>
  <span>just </span>
  <em>
    <span>a hat.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not even two hours later that Jack’s initial assumption about the day goes awry when the Rift alarms start blaring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hurriedly, he pokes his head out of his office. “What is it, Tosh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Slime creatures,” she calls back, checking her scanners. There’s a series of resounding groans, loudest of all from Owen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later, the team is racing out the door. “Slime creatures,” Jack tells Ianto apologetically. Ianto doesn’t even so much as scowl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, sir,” he says. “I’ll ready the cleaning supplies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slime creatures are the bloody worst</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ianto rages as he maneuvers his Audi into a swift left turn. It had taken him several extra hours to clean up after the bodies the team had brought back into the Hub, and now, he’s beyond late to pick up Mica from Rhi’s. His sister is going to chew him out.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of hours do you keep?” Rhiannon snaps when he finally knocks at her door. “You were meant to pick Mica up ages ago. You’re a civil servant; the whole of Cardiff doesn’t fall apart if you leave early!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ianto hides his smirk in the crook of Mica’s neck when he kneels down after she runs at him at high velocity to jump into his arms. He lifts her up despite his arms creaking in protest, and she burrows her head against his neck, just like she used to when she was young. He has a sudden flash of sadness at how quickly she’s growing and presses a quick kiss to her forehead. “How was school, Mica darling?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mica sniffs. “Everyone said they were going to miss me, Taddy.” She glances up at him with those big brown doe eyes of hers, blinking pleadingly, and Ianto’s heart sinks; he can never resist those eyes. “Do I have to leave my friends?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mica</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He sighs. “We can’t keep bringing you to Aunt Rhi’s house just so you can go to school. You already had an extra month with your friends, but now you have to go to school near where Taddy lives.” He gently strokes her hair. “You’ll make friends there, too, I promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she replies, but her voice sounds small, so he hugs her closer briefly before setting her back down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now,” he says quietly. “Go get your bag and say goodbye to your cousin.” Once Mica darts off, Ianto faces his sister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ianto,” Rhi begins sternly, and he sighs again. “You have to be aware of time. If you keep pulling these late hours at your office, you’ll have to get a nanny for Mica. You can’t keep driving her here for me to look after her.” A beat. “You need to step up as a father.” The last part is said a bit hesitantly but no less insistently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ianto’s shoulders tense defensively. He knows. He’s trying. It’s not easy being a single father, especially not while dreaming nightly of the horrors he saw at Canary Wharf, working for Torchwood, and grieving the woman he thought he would introduce to Mica as her mum. “I know,” he bites out. “But consider this, Rhi. Who was it who convinced me to abandon my daughter in the first place and run off to London?” As Rhiannon’s eyes flare angrily, he runs a hand through his hair. He’s suddenly so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I’m so sorry, Rhi. I didn’t mean that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did,” she tells him softly. “And you’re right. Mum and I were selfish then. We didn’t consider the consequences, that you would lose out on raising Mica for so long.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was only supposed to be for a few months</span>
  </em>
  <span>, neither of them says, because neither of them expected Torchwood. Or as Rhi knows it - Ianto’s long-lasting stint as a cog in the governmental wheel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” he replies. “I’ll be getting a nanny to look after Mica.” Once he finds one that stands up to Torchwood background checks. He’s suddenly grateful for Jack’s paranoia. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mica comes hurtling from the hall and immediately slips her hand into his. “I’m ready to go, Taddy!” She blows a kiss to Rhiannon. “Bye, Auntie Rhi!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, sweetheart,” Rhiannon coos before giving Ianto a pointed stare. Reluctantly, he lets his sister pull him in for a hug that lasts far too long for his liking before he presses a kiss to her cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the car, he buckles Mica into her car seat, his sluggish fingers sliding from the clasp, before dragging himself to the driver’s seat. Before starting the engine, he turns to his daughter. “What would you like for dinner?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her tiny face creases with lines as she frowns. “I already ate at Aunt Rhi’s, but I would like ice cream!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately, Ianto finds himself saying, “No, no ice cream.” When she pouts at him: “We can have ice cream on the weekend but not on a school night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not even going to school tomorrow,” Mica points out, raising an eyebrow so like his own. She already knows she’s going to win this argument. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” replies Ianto as he relents. “But I’m only getting you ice cream on the condition that you eat part of my broccoli and beef from my Chinese takeaway. You need to eat more vegetables.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Rhi says you do, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Rhi,” Ianto murmurs as he starts his Audi’s engine. “Needs to remember that I’m her brother, not her son.” And he peeks into the rearview mirror to see Mica beam, and his heart warms.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006 </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Jack sees another drop of slime again, it’ll be too soon. Shoulders slumping, he unlocks his front door with a sigh. He shuts the door behind him and then hangs his greatcoat on the hook on the wall, right next to Alice’s miniature matching version of his coat. Then he toes off his boots, eyeing the small sneakers - Alice’s - and the bigger combat boots - Clara’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was work?” Clara calls from the living room; Jack finds her draped dramatically over the couch, drinking red wine from the bottle. There’s a dirty plate on the coffee table. “Save the world again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack leans down to drop a quick kiss on her cheek before swiping the bottle from her hand to take a long swig of his own. He hands her back the bottle, scowling. “I pay you enough for you to be able to afford better wine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clara shrugs. “That takes the joy out of day-drinking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Alice?” he asks as he drifts into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Napping.” She arches a perfect eyebrow at him. “She wanted to go bowling, but you came home too late.” Jack tries to hide the slight flinch in his expression, but Clara sees it. Her eyes soften. “Alice doesn’t blame you. She knows you were off saving the world from…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Slime monsters,” Jack offers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Slime monsters.” Clara rolls her eyes. “Relax, we already made alternative arrangements! It’s game night. I’ll wake her up in a few minutes. Tomorrow’s the weekend, so it should be okay if she stays up a bit later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How would I do this without you, Clara Oswin?” Jack asks rhetorically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her scarlet lips curl up into a teasing smile as she stands and strides past him, taking the plate and empty bottle to the kitchen. “You wouldn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” he whispers to the empty living room once Clara leaves to go wake Alice. “I wouldn’t.” Smiling, he walks to the side closet and pulls out a few board games.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad!” comes the overjoyed voice, before a tiny body attaches itself to Jack’s legs. He glances down at Alice, at her widened brown eyes like Lucia’s, at the cheekbones, dark hair, and dimples that are clearly from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, kiddo,” he says, awkwardly hugging his daughter as best he can while still holding the games. “Could you let go of me so that I can put these down, and then hug you properly?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alice pouts but complies, although she only waits a moment before attacking Jack again. This time, she uses his legs as a foothold to attempt to clamber into his arms until he’s forced to relent and lift her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooof</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says exaggeratedly, beaming as he presses a kiss to her head. “You’re getting heavy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clara says that’s rude,” Alice tells him, rolling her eyes at him. It’s an expression she’s clearly learned from Clara.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And where is Clara?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right here,” Clara says herself, emerging into the living room dressed in her pajamas. “I’m prepared to wipe the floor with both of you in Monopoly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re not playing Monopoly,” both Harknesses say in unison, scowling at Clara, and she tosses her head back to laugh, a beautiful bell-like sound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sore losers, both of you,” she teases.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re playing Scrabble,” Jack decides, because if there’s one game that should let him win against a six-year-old and the twentysomething that Clara is, it would be Scrabble. He’s immortal and well-traveled. He probably knows enough words to win.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” Alice pulls a box from the stack that Jack set on the floor. “We’re playing Cluedo. And I’m going to win.” She smirks up at her father and nanny, and Jack is almost frightened by the deviousness in her expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we get ice cream, Taddy?” Mica pipes up by Ianto’s side as they shuffle slowly down the aisle at Tesco.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ianto frowns at his daughter. “No. You just had ice cream last night.” When she sighs, he reaches down for her hand and rubs his thumb across her small knuckles. “Tell you what. Next week, after your first week at your new school, we can celebrate with ice cream </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>a cake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why do I do this to myself</span>
  </em>
  <span>? he thinks when she beams up at him, but he knows the answer - he cannot deny his daughter anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you go down the aisle and pick out some cereal you like?” he suggests, and Mica nods before skipping off. He makes sure to keep her in sight as he turns slightly to examine the items on the shelves besides him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ianto? Ianto Jones?” comes an astonished voice from behind him, and he finds that its owner is a pretty Black woman around his age with dark hair pulled back into a bun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tish?” He gapes before exchanging a quick hug with Tish. “What are you doing in Cardiff?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I moved for a change of pace,” she explains, smiling at him. “Although I’m still looking for a job. What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I moved back,” he says, “after… I, too, needed a change of pace.” It doesn’t slip his attention how Tish’s smile has dimmed. “I’m sorry about Adeola.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” she tells him. “I’m sorry about Lisa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Taddy?” Mica appears, racing down the aisle. “Are either of these okay?” She holds out too brightly-colored boxes of cereal, and Ianto internally sighs. He was really hoping she would pick out something healthier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” he says, taking both boxes and placing them in his basket. “Mica darling, have you met Taddy’s friend? Her name is Tish.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Tish!” Mica waves politely at Tish. “My name is Mica Jones. How are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Mica,” Tish replies kindly, glancing at Ianto. “Your Taddy has told me so much about you! He worked with my cousin, and he would always show us pictures of you. You’re so big now!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tish is also a Jones!” Ianto tells Mica, and watches his daughter giggle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Taddy says that Joneses are a dime a dozen in Wales,” Mica replies, moving until she stands closer to Tish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tish laughs. “Well, I don’t know about Wales, but there are certainly a lot of Joneses in London, at least.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They move forward down the aisle, with Tish and Mica continuing to chat like old friends, and Ianto chiming in once or twice with a witty comment. He notices how Mica has warmed up to Tish quite quickly; Tish seems genuinely enthusiastic and kind to Mica, and he remembers her mentioning how she worked as a nanny during uni.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they pay for their respective purchases, and when Tish, Ianto, and Mica step outside the Tesco into the chilly Welsh air, Ianto turns to Tish and asks, “Tish, would you like a job?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find Nik on tumblr <a></a><a href="http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/">here</a> or on Twitter  <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik">here</a>. Find Kai on Twitter <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/transjackianto">here</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At school, Alice and Mica meet and become friends while their fathers continue on Torchwood missions.</p><p>(Set during 1x01 - Everything Changes, 1x02 - Day One, and, 1x03 - Ghost Machine)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know this chapter is 2 weeks late and I'm so sorry. My mental health has been completely in the drain and I'd like to thank Nik (princessoftheworlds) for being so understanding. I hope you enjoy this :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Mica</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Mica really doesn't want to be starting a new school. Her old school was perfectly fine. She misses it already. Everything’s not all bad, though. Tish is a lovely person, and she knows how to do all kinds of hairstyles. Having her hair in French plaits makes Mica feel like a princess, but it’s also always easier to have her hair like that when she wants to run about and play with the boys. She’s getting sick and tired of getting whipped in the face with her own hair. </p><p> </p><p>On one of her first days at her new school, she sits at one of the games tables in the playground, drawing on her arm with her favourite gel pen. Her favourite pastime, lately, has been to draw ‘tattoos’ on her non-writing arm. They aren’t perfect, but she loves to draw anything from flowers to dinosaurs.</p><p> </p><p>Mica’s carefully tracing the curve of a flower petal when a loud voice blaring in her ear causes her to flinch; the pen skitters, drawing a jagged line on her skin.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you wearing shorts?”</p><p> </p><p>Mica looks up to stare at an older boy; he appears to be a third year. Her brow furrows at the stupid question. “Because it’s hot?”</p><p> </p><p>The boy glances her over from head-to-toe. “Girls shouldn’t wear shorts.”</p><p> </p><p>Mica’s eyes roll in an imitation of her father’s favorite expression. “And what dumb-dumb told you that?”</p><p> </p><p>The boy scowls, thin dark eyebrows knitting together. Mica thinks he looks like an ugly pig. “Don’t call my brother dumb!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, he’s dumb for saying it! Anyone can wear shorts!” Her voice grows loud and heated to match the boy’s tone.</p><p> </p><p>“No! Girls wear skirts or dresses to school!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’m not wearing them.”</p><p> </p><p>“That means you’re a boy, then!”</p><p> </p><p>Mica’s brow furrows again as she stands up from the table, slamming her pen down. “No, it doesn’t!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes it does!”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it doesn’t!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. It. Does!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so stupid! You don’t have to be a boy to wear shorts!”</p><p> </p><p>An unfamiliar voice pipes up from beside Mica,“My auntie Clara says that saying those sorts of things means you’re sec-sis.”</p><p> </p><p>Mica looks towards her right to find a quiet girl from her class. She has dark curly hair and a scary expression on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s sec-sis?” the boy cuts in, causing Mica to turn her head to look at him again.</p><p> </p><p>“It means people who think boys are better than girls when everyone is supposed to be eek-wall. And also telling girls what they can and can’t wear. Auntie Clara says having separate clothes for boys and girls is stupid. Girls can wear trousers and shorts, and boys can wear skirts and dresses if they want to.”</p><p> </p><p>Mica’s face splits into a grin as the boy appears confused.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah! My taddy says that, too!”</p><p> </p><p>The other girl grabs ahold of Mica’s hand and pulls her away towards the climbing frame. “Come on, let’s leave the dumb boy alone. I think we’ve hurt his head,” she says, giggling a little.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Mica.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Alice.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Ianto slumps down onto the sofa, toeing his shoes off and letting them fall where they land.</p><p> </p><p>It’s been a long few days.</p><p> </p><p>A copper found out about their secret organisation. Jack Retconned her. Ianto had to wipe her computer. The copper came back. Suzie shot herself, and it turned out that she’d been the one killing all their glove testers. Tosh and Owen snuck technology off the base.</p><p> </p><p>Suzie is dead. He’s lost another colleague to the darkness that was Torchwood. She wasn’t always evil. A memory comes to him of one of his early days at Torchwood Three where they went out for coffee at a nearby cafe and sat in mutual silence while reading books. He always thought that they were like kindred spirits. Neither he nor Suzie were particularly talkative people but the way she had mentioned her father sometimes reminded him of his own.</p><p> </p><p>Did Torchwood destroy everyone?</p><p> </p><p>Will Torchwood destroy him? Is it fair to put his daughter through losing him at a young age, seeing as most Torchwood agents don’t tend to last long? Especially Cardiff agents. But, also, could he really let himself be Retconned and forget about the dangers of living in Cardiff? Isn’t it safer to be in the knowing and try and not get himself killed? He isn’t exactly a field agent. He’s an archivist and researcher. He likes it that way. It feels safer.</p><p> </p><p>A cold bottle is knocked against his hand, causing his eyes to flicker open. His gaze lands on the tall woman in front of him. “Tish?”</p><p> </p><p>Tish shakes her head and shoves the bottle of cider into his hand. “You look like you need it,” she surmises, raising an elegant eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“I probably do.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs softly at him, knowing that he would never admit to it unless he really needed it. “That bad, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“That bad.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Jack is woken up from a deep sleep by his bedroom door banging open and reverberating off the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“You look like shit,” a Northern-accented voice drawls.</p><p> </p><p>“Charming,” he mumbles, reaching up a hand to wipe the sleep out of the corners of his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Bad night?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you think?” he snaps back at her.</p><p> </p><p>The duvet cover is pulled off of his body sharply. A head comes into focus above his.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you die again last night?” Her voice softens a little as she says it.</p><p> </p><p>Jack lets out a large sigh. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“How bad?”</p><p> </p><p>He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to block out the memory of Suzie turning the gun on him. “Gunshot through the middle of my forehead.”</p><p> </p><p>Clara winces in sympathy. Jack knows that she is remembering all the times that he has told her that being shot in the head may be the quickest way for him to die and regenerate, but it always leaves him with a migraine.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get you some painkillers.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” he mutters as he swings his legs off the bed. His feet touch the carpet, and he gives himself a few seconds as he hears Clara leave the room to hang his head a little and rub his toes through the carpet.</p><p> </p><p>He hates losing people.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“How’s school going, Mica darling?”</p><p> </p><p>Mica looks up from her pancakes that she had been assiduously cutting into. It’s become a ritual of theirs. If Ianto’s off from work on a weekend morning, he will make them all pancakes to eat as a treat. Ianto likes to experiment with making shapes and art. He has various ‘cookie cutter’ outlines that he uses to make the various dinosaurs that Mica loves. Not that he’s told Mica that. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s going great! I have a new best friend!”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto looks over from the stove to see Mica looking happier than he had seen her in a long while. “Really? What’s their name?”</p><p> </p><p>“Alice! She’s so cool! She only has a taddy and has a nanny, too!”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto raises an eyebrow at that. Small world. “That’s great that you have so many things in common, bug. What do you like to do together?”</p><p> </p><p>Mica waves her fork around as she talks, shovelling food into her mouth during gaps in her speech. “Well, we like to play astronauts a lot where we go and visit other planets and meet aliens. I came up with a planet where there are lots of dinosaurs, and Alice made a planet where it’s mostly sandy with pretty beaches, but mean aliens might come, so we have to defend everyone against the mean aliens.” She stops to take a sip of her apple juice before continuing. “They’re not all bad aliens, though. We went to a planet where there were human-shaped cats who were really friendly, and that was where we like to go when we need to get healed up from being hurt in fighting.”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto smiles at his daughter as she continues the imaginary adventures that her and her new best friend play out during break and lunch times. He’s so glad that she has found someone who is as adventurous as her. He had been so worried about pulling her from her old school, but Mica seems to be doing fine. He could probably put it all down to this Alice girl. Ianto tries not to think of the stress of moving her to a new school, having to get her an entirely new uniform - because, of course, all the different schools have different coloured uniforms to keep them apart if they were ever to go on school trips at the same time. So having to go from red jumpers, red dresses, and a red book bag to a navy blazer, a blue jumper, a blue and gold tie, blue dresses, and a blue book bag had really kind of killed his mood as well as his bank account. Mica’s new school is in a less-rough area compared to her old one, so the uniform is a lot stricter. He wants the best for his daughter, but sticking a six-year-old in a blazer and a tie already - even if it was an elastic tie - is absolutely ridiculous.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “None of you have partners?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jack leans against the fridge in his kitchen. It has been another long day, and he’s really hating this. Why was the Rift becoming so reactive lately? Couldn’t it give him a break? A sex gas alien had travelled to Earth to feed off orgasmic energy. Over ten people died. And all because the newbie decided to chuck equipment and miss. He sighs, closing his eyes. He shouldn’t have taken her out into the field without more training, but he’d honestly thought that with her previous job she would have more common sense. His mistake. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You’ve been hidden down here too long. Spending so much time with the alien stuff, you’ve lost what it means to be human.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He also really didn’t appreciate the newbie coming in and insulting his employees. Jack knows what it means to be human. If he wasn’t capable of being human, he would have left Tosh in her UNIT cell, he would have given Alice up for adoption… God, the thought of not having Alice in his life is heartbreaking. Just because he doesn’t like to wear his emotions on his sleeve doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Do one thing for me. Don’t let the job consume you. You have a life.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he really wishes he could just have a normal life. The thought of coming home to a wonderful partner who would love Alice just as much as he does. Growing old with them. Loving them. Getting married. Maybe having more kids. He had never thought that he would be a good father, but here he is, just trying to be the best he can be.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Go home, Gwen Cooper. Eat lasagne, kiss your boyfriend. Be normal.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy!”</p><p> </p><p>Jack pivots on his heel to turn around just in time to see his daughter run at him to hug his legs. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, sweetie, how are you?” </p><p> </p><p>The depressive thoughts have moved to the back of his head as he gazes down at his wonderful daughter. Some days, he wouldn’t know where he’d be without her. What sort of man would he have turned into after New Year’s 2000 without a newborn to look after? He really doesn’t want to know.</p><p> </p><p>Alice pulls away to grin up at him with a very familiar expression. Oh, sometimes his daughter is the spitting image of him. “I’m great! I have a new best friend at school now!”</p><p> </p><p>Jack grabs Alice’s hand and leads her towards the lounge where they can sit on the sofa and talk more comfortably. “Oh, really? What are they like?” he asks as they finally sit down.</p><p> </p><p>Alice continues talking rapidly, moving her hands about as she talks. “Her name is Mica, and she’s really cool. She also likes space and likes to play astronauts, too. We like to go to other planets, meet good aliens, and fight bad aliens. We like to visit Boeshane and protect the people that live there from the invaders, but we also like to visit a planet with lots of dinosaurs including a flying one called ‘fanwy!” Jack’s eyes widen a little at this, but it’s a common Welsh name isn’t it? He’s raising his daughter in Wales; she is going to name her favourite things after Welsh names. “When we get injured badly, we go to the planet with healing cat-people!”</p><p> </p><p>Jack lays his arm along the back of the sofa, resting his head against his hand where he has bent his elbow. “She sounds like a wonderful person for you to be friends with, Alice.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Another day, another death </em>, Ianto thinks as he stares mindlessly at the television in front of him. His thoughts return to the other week where he was contemplating whether he should just leave Torchwood. It would be easier, wouldn’t it? He could get his job back at the museum. Maybe, he should keep an eye out for his old job, put some feelers out to his old boss, and let them know he’s interested in going back if they will have him. He loved his job at the museum. It was both proud and humbling to be surrounded by all that history.</p><p> </p><p>It’s one of the reasons he loves working in the Torchwood archives so much. Alien technology and history? It’s like the job was designed for him in mind.</p><p> </p><p>Growing up, he had always had a fascination with history. But he had also had a passion for space and science fiction. He never thought that he would ever be able to combine the two, but here he is.</p><p> </p><p>“Taddy?”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto looks away from the television where Mica’s favourite Disney movie is playing. He may also love this one. The concept of ohana and found family has always resonated in him. “Yes, Mica, darling?” he asks, looking down at his daughter snuggled into his side.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I start ballet lessons?”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto blinks rapidly. His daughter has never shown an interest in dancing before. Not that he was aware of, at least. He didn’t know if she had ever asked his sister or mother, and they had told her that they couldn’t afford it. “What’s brought this on?” he asks gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Me and Alice talked, and we wanna start them together.”</p><p> </p><p>He looks down into his daughter’s pleading brown eyes and knows that he can never say no to a request like this. She doesn’t partake in any extracurriculars, and he remembers all the different groups and clubs he wanted to do as a child but couldn’t because his family just didn’t have the money.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure? It’s a big commitment.”</p><p> </p><p>Mica nods determinedly, looking at him with a serious expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Where do you sleep?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I don’t.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Doesn’t it get lonely at night?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jack doesn’t sleep much or very often. But when he does, he sleeps like the dead… probably not the best turn of phrase to use considering that when he does sleep, it’s mainly because he is recovering from dying and resurrecting.</p><p> </p><p>He is rudely awakened by a small body jumping on top of him from where he had crashed the previous evening. It’s probably his fault for not dragging his body up to the nice cosy bed he has in his bedroom and deciding the sofa was his end point. He never learns.</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy!” a voice squeals very close to his ear.</p><p> </p><p>God, he really doesn’t like that about children. Them not knowing what is an appropriate volume level for talking to someone who is very near to them.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sweetie?” he replies, laying still with his eyes closed.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I start ballet lessons?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s eyes open at that. He looks down to the child laying splayed out across his body. She has her head propped up on her bent arms, gazing at him with an innocent expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Ballet lessons?” He had thought of it, of course. Other parents had mentioned to him about putting their daughters into ballet lessons, but he never wanted to conform his daughter to gender stereotypes. He hadn’t wanted to put her into something like that just because that’s what parents do for their daughters. If Alice had come to him and said she wanted to play football or rugby, he wouldn’t have batted an eyelid - he would have found a team for her. Equally, her coming to him and asking to do ballet, as long as it’s something she wants, he will allow her. “What brought this on?”</p><p> </p><p>“Me and Mica talked, and we wanna start them together.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack tilts his head. Well, at least it’s something she wants to do with a friend and not something she wants to do because someone told her to. “It’s a big commitment.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” she says, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find Nik on tumblr <a></a><a href="http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/">here</a> or on Twitter  <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik">here</a>. Find Kai on Twitter <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/transjackianto">here</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Torchwood pops up for a quick field mission but find nothing. Later, Ianto begins to act and feel strange, and something turns on the team, trapping them in the Hub. </p>
<p>(Set during 1x04 - Cyberwoman)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hellllllllllllo! Sorry for the long, long wait. So essentially, what happened was that Kai wasn't doing well and I got busy with school, so we went on hiatus. Kai's been doing okay now, but his writing muse is away at war, and I'm really, really busy with school and way too many other fics. Still, I remembered this (and a second) chapter exists, and so I'll be posting both during this week. Then we're back on hiatus for another few months.</p>
<p>Anyways, enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> here,” Owen protests as he stands besides Jack, both men surveying the empty field. “This was a bloody waste of time.” He turns a critical eye to Tosh. “You said the Rift predictor was 99% accurate.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“98.75% accurate,” Tosh replies without glancing up, fiddling with her scanner.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It could be invisible,” Jack offers, voice bright and booming. “I had this girlfriend once with an invisible space-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Gwen cuts him off: “Tosh, it is invisible?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tosh lifts her scanner higher, tapping a few buttons on the side, and they all wait patiently - or as patiently as Owen can, which consists of tapping his feet and the occasional swear word - as the device bleeps and bloops. Finally, it lets out a single dying high-pitched beep, and Tosh frowns down at it. “No, no invisible alien object,” she confirms. “This field is entirely empty.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen throws his hands up in frustration, the leather of his jacket creasing his movements. His eyes are narrowed, lips pressed together in a cruel line. “What did I say? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bloody waste of time</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Jack turns sharply on his heel and heads back to the SUV, his team trailing behind him. He raises a hand to the comm in his ear: “Ianto, order some lunch. We’ve found nothing, and we’re going to be starving when we get back to the Hub.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Noted</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” comes Ianto’s tinny voice in Jack’s ear. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll call Jubilee.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Before Jack can add anything further: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, I’ll add in an order of coleslaw</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jack grins. “Pizza sounds wonderful.” He drops his voice to a low murmur and says, “As do your Welsh vowels, Ianto.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There is a brief silence, which Jack preoccupies by imagining Ianto blushing so prettily. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you, sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he replies drily. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now hurry on back</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At Ianto’s composed reply, a flash of lust runs through Jack, but it’s quickly overpowered by an odd chill that causes him to shiver. He gets the distinct impression that someone is watching him, creeping like a shadow behind him, but when he glances over his shoulder, there’s nothing, no one, there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That feeling follows him back to the Hub.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There are too many vegetables on his pizza, and despite having been the one to have made the order, Ianto scowls down at the slice before beginning the painstaking work of carefully digging his fingers through the melted cheese to pick out the slimy slices. Bits of pepper and onions slowly pile up on his plate. Ianto’s fingers gain a faint, oily sheen, and he wipes them on his napkin before resuming.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a sudden knock to his ankle, and Ianto whips his head around to find Jack scowling at him and shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eat your vegetables</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he mouths to Ianto. Petulant, Ianto digs another shred of onion from his pizza, causing Jack to roll his eyes and return his attention to the rest of the team.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Have I ever told you about the Carrionite I once met in London?” he begins, his story drowned out by Owen’s loud resounding groan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not again, Harkness!” Owen complains. “Can I have a peaceful lunch for once without having to hear about your sexcapades?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seemed to very much enjoy the last one about the best friends, Owen,” Tosh teases, and he flushes before taking an angry bite of his pizza.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Abruptly, Ianto realizes that there is an odd chill in the air, different from the usual stale coldness of the Hub, that the atmosphere feels unusually restless. He shudders, his shoulders slumping down as he frowns. The hair on his neck is standing on its end, but it’s not because of the chill.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto is not the only one seemingly affected. Gwen’s hand quivers slightly as she raises her slice to her mouth and bites off a bit, chewing slowly. Owen’s expression is a bit unnerved, and his gaze is darting around. Even Tosh has tugged her cardigan more tightly around herself. Only Jack seems to have not noticed, too busy messily eating his own pizza and accidentally spitting out crumbs everywhere.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In other circumstances, Ianto would have rolled his eyes, but he only inhales sharply before rising to go turn up the heating.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This paperwork won’t fill out itself, and Jack thinks that might make him hate it even more. Only a few hours have chugged by after lunch, and there’s a headache beating out a samba behind his forehead. He thinks about asking Ianto for another cup of his divine coffee, but it is creeping close to the end of their regular workday, albeit one without </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally </span>
  </em>
  <span>any alien involvement or Rift activity, which means that it will be time for Ianto to go home soon. Time for Jack to stop by Tesco on his way home to pick up groceries for tonight’s pasta that he’s making for Alice and Clara.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a sigh, Jack lifts his pen, hand poised over his paperwork. He’s just tracing out the slight curl to the end of his signature when a high-pitched scream from the Hub causes him to jerk, accidentally drawing a line off the edge of the file. Immediately, he jolts to his feet, chair skittering backwards, and races out of his office.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” he demands, eyes wild, hands at the Webley holstered at his wrist.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Gwen; she stands in the middle of the Hub, by her desk, pointing towards the water tower. She’s pale and shaking. “I saw Rhys!” she cries, lips slightly parted, expression horrorstuck. “He was standing right </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Her finger quivers, but she keeps it raised. “He was covered in blood!” She inhales sharply.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen and Tosh stand near their own desks, and Owen makes eye contact with Jack. He shakes his head slightly. He didn’t see Rhys then, only Gwen did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gwen,” Jack begins soothingly, making his way to the lower level. “That wasn’t Rhys, I promise. Rhys is not here. He’s safe at your flat.” At least Jack hopes so. “Your mind just played a trick on you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But I saw him,” Gwen protests, turning wide eyes to Jack. There is strong conviction in her voice. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>what I saw, Jack Harkness.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tosh, check the cameras,” Jack orders. “Ianto, get Gwen a hot chocolate. Usually, if a Torchwood operative is seeing things, it doesn’t hurt to check.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2006 </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the end, to both Jack and Gwen’s disappointment, the CCTV footage yields no results. There is nothing there. Gwen is working at her desk one moment, and then next, she glances up, flinches back, and screams at thin air.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That can’t be possible.” Gwen shudders despite the arm Tosh has wrapped around her as they watch the footage played back for a third time. The rest of the team is gathered behind them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Gwen,” Jack tells her. “But don’t worry. We’ll keep looking. Ianto?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto nods. “I’ll go down to the archives, sir, and try to look up what we have on record that could cause hallucinations. It could be a device or maybe even a specific species.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Jack and Tosh lead Gwen to the autopsy bay, Ianto takes the stairs, his shoulders relaxing slightly when he enters the archives. This is his domain, and he feels most at ease down here.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yet as Ianto takes to searching through the shelves, following his meticulous tagging system that is only half-way near complete, he shivers again, feeling that same creeping shadow-like sensation from before.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like something is watching him over his shoulder. Something sinister, something threatening. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He whips around but finds nothing, no one, there, just the regular stained, cracked wall of the Hub. If this is what is affecting Gwen, Ianto realizes, it’ll be better to find out what it is rather than to react to it, so he resumes his search.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He combs through files, different boxes, artifacts tagged from over two centuries ago, with no luck. He finds out about a failed government attempt to make invisible armor in 1956 and about shadowy creatures that eat everything that moves that slaughtered an entire Torchwood London team but nothing that can actually help Gwen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then, from behind him, there’s a voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ianto</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it calls, sounding exactly like it did all those months ago when a blushing and nervous Ianto had first asked her on a date. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ianto Jones</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes wide and shoulders tense, Ianto slowly turns around, and the lights of the Hub choose that moment to go off, plunging the base into darkness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Owen</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What happened to the lights</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” comes Jack’s voice through the comm, frantic in Owen’s ear. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You guys all okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Owen, Gwen, Tosh, Ianto</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m working on it</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Tosh responds. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Looks like something’s draining power from the base. I’m going to have to go down to the lower levels and turn the power back on manually</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jack sighs. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>See if you can find Ianto</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay safe. It looks like something might have infiltrated the base</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so stay off the comms unless absolutely necessary.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it,” Owen says, and Gwen murmurs in affirmation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Returning to the eerie silence of the autopsy bay, Owen moves slowly, inching towards the counters. Something rattles as he accidentally drops his hand down on the counter, and he realizes it’s his tray of scalpels he’d laid out to be cleaned by Ianto.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t I have a bloody flashlight here or something?” he grumbles. “Why is nothing ever where I leave it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Organization was never really your gift</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” a soft voice teases, and Owen whirls around, a scalpel at the ready. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Katie,” he breathes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katie Russell, the love of his life, stands there dressed as she was on the very day they took her in for the surgery. Owen’s so shocked, fingers beginning to rattle, sweaty grip slipping from the scalpel, that he doesn’t even question that he can see her despite the darkness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re dead,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katie snorts in a very unKatie-like way. “No thanks to you,” she says, her tone at odds with the rest of her kind smile. When Owen’s eyes grow wide, mouth pursed: “You’re a doctor, Owen. One of the best I’ve ever seen.” She reaches a hand out as if to grasp for Owen. “But what good was it to be a brilliant doctor if you couldn’t even save me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No…” Owen mutters. “No, no, no, no.” The scalpel drops to the ground with a loud clatter, echoing loudly in the silence. His hand quivers even more. “I tried, Katie. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I tried to save you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I did everything I could.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t do enough,” Katie snarls, and in a sudden flash, she changes. She wears the hospital gown she died in, a gaping wound cut into her head, exposing her brain. There is blood darkening her blond hair. “You could have saved me!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen doesn’t have a chance to reply; he was too preoccupied by the ghost of Katie that he didn’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late and the needle has slipped into his neck. As Katie cackles inhumanely, Owen slips to the ground, unconscious.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Gwen</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The archives are always cold and dark, but currently, they feel even more haunting. There’s a reason Gwen comes down here so rarely; she doesn’t even know how to navigate the archives.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ianto,” she calls quietly. “Ianto, are you down here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As expected, there is no reply except for the continued silence. Gwen longs for the chaos of the Hub, the chaos that had been present during lunch. Nervously, she tightens her grip around her gun and flashlight, grateful that Jack had unlocked the armory before sending her off to search for Ianto. She certainly feels more confident with it in her hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, the lights flash back on, and Gwen whirls around, hand half-way up to her comm before she remembers Jack’s instructions to communicate only if immediately necessary. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like someone’s watching her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello? Is anyone down here with me?” she demands, gun raised high. “Show yourself!” A ragged gasp echoes from further down the corridor. Gwen creeps forward. “I’m armed and not afraid to shoot!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gwen</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Rhys!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gwen ducks around a turn, and her gazes catches on Rhys hunched over in a shadowy corner just like he’d been there near the water tower. He’s pale, clothes soaked through with darkening blood, expression contorted with intense pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gwen,” he moans, “help me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the lights flash back to dark, Gwen continues forward, using her flashlight as a guide. She scurries towards the corner where she spotted Rhys, calling for him, but there’s no response. Her heart thuds rapidly in her chest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Rhys!” she says urgently, finally advancing on the corner only to find he’s no longer there. She turns in a wide circle, moving her flashlight this way and that. “Rhys?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then her head explodes with smashing pain, and she’s knocked unconscious, her gun clattering to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Tosh</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tosh hums around the tools held in her mouth, slowly untangling the mess of wires in the utility room. She didn’t realize it’d become so dusty here, what with her doing all the necessary maintenance from her desk. She should really ask Ianto to start cleaning here.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When she finds the right cable, she runs her hands across the entire length to where it plugs into the generator only to realize that the generator has shorted out. She lifts her chin to better angle the beam of the flashlight only for the light to flicker back on as the generator begins to hum again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tools slip from her mouth as she gapes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not possible,” Tosh says, eyes narrowed, “unless someone’s been messing with the generator.” She sighs. “Better stay off the comms then, Toshiko.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Tosh glances back up, she realizes that the brick walls of the room have changed. They are now made of cement and stained and cracked in a very familiar pattern that Tosh remembers spending hours staring at. Her heart drops to her stomach, and she instinctively draws her knees up closer. Somehow, she has found herself back in the UNIT cell she spent months in. She’s trapped here again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she says adamantly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nonononono</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She can’t be back here again; how is she back here again?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tosh whimpers, burying her face in her hands. There is only fear in her mind now, no room left for rational thought as she retreats inside herself. The quiet around her turns to a low staticky buzzing in her ears, and she doesn’t hear the room’s lock engage, trapping her inside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stupidly, he handed the only two flashlights he could find in the armory to Tosh and Gwen, so Jack now digs through his desk drawers in the darkness, searching for a flashlight that he vaguely remembers storing here. He hisses as his hands catch on random slips of paper, likely gloving himself in papercuts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gotta remember to let Ianto to tidy in here,” he mutters to himself. His hands trail over random trinkets and an unbelievable number of pens, but he can’t feel the round rubber or metal base of a flashlight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unexpectedly, his office is suddenly bathed in the red glow of the emergency lighting, presumably Tosh’s work, and Jack realizes he’s been digging through the contents of his junk drawer. He slams it shut, standing. Quickly he unholsters his Webley before descending to the lower level of the Hub.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Owen? Gwen?” he calls, finding the areas around their desks empty. “Ianto? Tosh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When no response comes, he risks asking over the comms but only finds radio silence. This is not good. His entire team has mysteriously vanished within their own base.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jack catches movement out of the corner of his eye and whirls around to find that Ianto has appeared suddenly next to the water tower, where Gwen had claimed Rhys had been standing previously. His clothes are mussed and blood-splattered, a gun tucked into the waistband of his trousers that Jack recognizes as the one he’d handed to Gwen. Ianto kneels, fiddling with the Rift Manipulator.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cautiously, Jack approaches him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ianto</span>
  </em>
  <span>...what are you doing?” He lifts his Webley higher. “Why don’t you step away from the Rift Manipulator? Come talk with me for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d rather not,” Ianto replies distractedly and continues on working.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From behind him, a figure emerges from the shadows of the Hub, silver metal glinting in the red light. It’s a Cyberwoman, Jack realizes, hot spikes of fear running down his spine; it’s a pretty Black woman, skin warped and burned where the metal meets her skin. Immediately, Jack cocks his Webley and aims it at her, but Ianto doesn’t even blink. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ianto</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jack snarls, rage - and suspicion - simmering at the base of his stomach, “what is a Cyberwoman </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing in my base</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” His finger twitches over the trigger of the Webley.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ianto turns haunted eyes on Jack that chill him to his core despite the rage and fear he feels. “Her name is Lisa,” Ianto replies. “Lisa Hallett.” His next words have Jack inhaling sharply: “She’s my girlfriend. I brought her here.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find Nik on tumblr <a></a><a href="http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/">here</a> or on Twitter  <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik">here</a>. Find Kai on Twitter <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/transjackianto">here</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In a locked Hub, Jack faces off with Ianto and the Cyberwoman. </p><p>(Set during 1x04 - Cyberwoman)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! As said, this chapter will be the last one for another few months. Hopefully, eventually Kai and I will have more written but no guarantees of when! Happy holidays.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Jack continues to gape at Ianto until the other man’s words register. “Lisa Hallett,” he says as recognition sparks dimly at the back of his mind. He remembers how Ianto’s eyes had briefly swum with sorrow when Jack had brought her up outside the tourist office that one day. “The girlfriend who died.”</p><p> </p><p>Now, something dark flashes across Ianto’s face as he continues kneeling next to the Rift Manipulator. “Yes,” he replies, eyes narrowed, fingers fast at work. “Except she didn’t. I saved her.” He straightens up enough for Jack to finally get a good look at him. “Lisa was caught by the Cybermen at Canary Wharf. It was towards the end when they got desperate and were no longer doing full conversions. I found her….” Ianto shudders, voice breaking: “I found her, and I dragged her out.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s impossible,” Jack breathes. “No Cyberman survived. UNIT and I ensured that.”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto glances blankly back at Jack. “You shouldn’t be surprised at how easy it is to forge paperwork, sir. That’s a skill Torchwood uses <em> far </em> too often.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s shock boils over into anger, fiery, all-consuming enough that he momentarily loses sight of the Cyberwoman despite the Webley he has trained on her. She stays in the shadows, watching them. “<em> Why is she here </em>?” he growls. “How did you bring her here?”</p><p> </p><p>The other man tips his head back and snorts bitterly in a very unIanto-like way. “It was far too easy, sir,” he admits. “I engineered a few Rift alerts when necessary and flirted with you at other times.” He bows his head when Jack minutely flinches back. “Nothing against you, sir, but the Hub was the best place to hide Lisa, to keep her safe while I figured out how to save her. You wouldn’t have helped if I’d told you.”</p><p> </p><p><em> I liked you, Ianto Jones, </em> Jack thinks and realizes just <em> how hurt </em> he is by the revelation of Ianto’s betrayal. “You’re right,” he agrees. “I wouldn’t have helped you.” He offers an apologetic shrug. “So you can’t blame me for the fact that I’m going to have to kill her.”</p><p> </p><p>This gets the most reaction out of Ianto that Jack has seen so far; Ianto turns to him, expression aghast and eyes bleak, wide, and pleading. “Jack, no,” he pleads. “I owe it to her, <em> We owe it to her </em>, to find a cure! We have to save her!”</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s fingers twitch on the trigger. “Ianto, you have to believe me, there is no cure,” he says to Ianto softly. “There will never be. Those who are converted stay that way.” His voice is raised to a sinister snarl: “<em> Your girlfriend will not be the exception! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not listening to me!” Ianto retorts, still leaning against the Rift Manipulator although he is no longer continuing to work on it. “The conversion was never completed. We can still save Lisa!” </p><p> </p><p>Jack takes a step towards Ianto, nearly shifting his Webley towards the other man, but then he falters. There’s something wrong with Ianto, he realizes; his eyes are lit with a kind of mania that seems very much unlike him and goes beyond even Ianto’s apparently extraordinary skills of deception. Jack’s eyebrows furrow.</p><p> </p><p><em> Something else is at play here </em>, he thinks, and when, a moment later, the obvious conclusion comes to him, he wonders how he could have missed it.</p><p> </p><p>“Ianto,” Jack begins, quietly, gently, addressing Ianto as one would an easily-spooked deer, “that isn’t Lisa Hallett.” He nods towards the Cyberwoman. “Lisa Hallett died at Canary Wharf. That creature over there is an alien pretending to be her. It’s the same alien that infiltrated our base. It’s somehow preying on your memories and manipulating you.” He moves the slightest bit closer to Ianto.</p><p> </p><p>Gently, Ianto shakes his head. “No, Jack,” he says, “you’re lying. You’re trying to manipulate me, trying to stop me. I can’t let you do that. I have to save her.” He offers Jack an apologetic smile and returns his attention to the Rift Manipulator. </p><p> </p><p>“Ianto, Ianto, <em> listen to me </em> ,” Jack says, but his pleas fall on deaf ears. Scowling and desperate, he turns his gaze to the Cyberwoman. “ <em> What did you do to him? What do you want? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>The Cyberwoman laughs, head tipped high. When alive and human, Lisa Hallett must have had a beautiful, almost musical laugh, but the alien taking her form makes it sound cruel and raspy. “You can’t break through to him, Harkness,” she comments, dark eyes gleaming. “I’ve got my claws deep in him.” The metal of her cybernetics glint as she advances out of the shadows and further into the red light of the Hub. Her tone becomes condescending. “Poor boy. He must have really loved this Lisa Hallett; it made him too easy to control.” She sighs. “He’s such an effective worker. So effective..so knowledgeable. <em> So disposable </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Rage clouds Jack’s vision, and he lunges forward for the Cyberwoman but is unexpectedly knocked aside by Ianto who straddles him and pins him down, choking him. Momentarily stunned by his head colliding painfully with the cement floor of the Hub, Jack is unable to fight back. In other circumstances, he’d find this erotic and has, in fact, wanted Ianto Jones on top of him for a while now, but Ianto’s gorgeous features are currently warped with fury, his mouth a cruel slash across his pale face. Ianto remains seared in Jack’s vision as the rest of the world becomes hazy and dark. </p><p> </p><p>“Ianto,” he gasps, “let me go. I’m on your side. I want to help you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re in my way,” Ianto snarls. “You want to kill Lisa. I’m sorry, Jack, but I can’t let you do that.” His grip on Jack’s neck only tightens. </p><p> </p><p>“Ianto…” Somehow, he finds the strength to lash out with his legs, striking Ianto right between his own. Ianto groans and stumbles off of Jack who staggers to his feet. Jack limps forward a few steps towards the Cyberwoman, fumbling for his gun. Ianto swipes an arm at Jack’s legs, attempting to knock him back down, but Jack neatly side-steps him. “Sorry, Ianto Jones,” he whispers and pistol-whips him into unconsciousness, his shoulders dropping as Ianto slumps to the ground. Jack turns his gaze back to the Cyberwoman who is scowling. “It’s just you and me now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think not,” the Cyberwoman retorts, and before Jack knows it, he’s screaming uncontrollably, his entire body twitching as she sends volt after volt of electricity through him, blue sparking off his skin. </p><p> </p><p>As Jack slumps to the floor himself, he realizes that Ianto’s unconscious body is also twitching from the electricity and that the Cyberwoman accidentally - or intentionally - electrocuted him too. Then Jack slides into the darkness of death.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Gwen</b>
</p><p> </p><p>With a jolt, Gwen startles awake, her leg accidentally knocking against a solid wall, and finds herself bathed in a sea of red light. After a few minutes, her eyes adjust, and she realizes that she's laying on her side in one of the utility closets on the lower level of the Hub.</p><p> </p><p> “How did I get here?” she mutters to herself. The last thing she remembers is walking down a hallway and seeing...Rhys! She straightens up, launching to her feet and tries for the door but finds it locked. That does nothing to ease the swelling knot of anxiety in her chest. </p><p> </p><p><em> Someone knocked me out </em> , she realizes. <em> Something’s infiltrated the base, separated the team, and knocked me out </em>. She raises her hand to her ear to find her comm missing. She has no equipment, no tools on her. This utility closet is empty of anything useful.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me out,” Gwen yells, hammering at the door. She rattles it and kicks at it and yells at the top of her lungs, knowing that her team could be out there in danger and that she needs to do anything and everything in her power to help them. Her voice starts to go hoarse, her throat hurting, but she keeps at it. If there’s anything Gwen Cooper knows how to do, it’s be stubborn and make herself heard.</p><p> </p><p>She’s clutching limply at the door handle when it’s shoved backwards and she falls on her arse. </p><p> </p><p>“Owen?” she gasps, ducking her head to keep from being blinded by the brightness of Owen’s flashlight.</p><p> </p><p>“Christ, Cooper,” Owen complains, but the relief in his voice is obvious, “I could hear you screaming from down the hallway.” Tosh’s favorite alien lockpicking device is tucked into his belt. </p><p> </p><p>“Owen!” She launches forward and wraps him in a tight hug as he tries to shove her off, but she persists. “What happened? How did you get here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Someone sedated me.” He scowls. “I woke up lying in a room in the lower levels. My attacker clearly never learned to tie knots or lock doors.” He nods to her. “What happened to you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was knocked out,” she replies. “There’s an alien in the base. It’s been causing me to see things.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.” He helps her limp out into the hallway. “You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Moving properly, Gwen now realizes that she’s slightly dizzy and that her head is pounding, but she nods. “I’ll be okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“We have to find Tosh and Ianto,” Owen says, supporting her as they begin to move and turn a corner. “And Jack.” He inhales sharply. “And rid our base of this alien.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Jack</b>
</p><p> </p><p>With a breathy gasp, Jack comes back to life, chest heaving, and he immediately jolts upright, only to find Ianto dead beside him. </p><p> </p><p>Scrambling to his knees, Jack ghosts his hands over Ianto’s body, the cooling skin and absence of breath only serving as further confirmation. “<em> No no no no no no </em> ,” he whispers. “ <em> Ianto </em>...I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Gently, he strokes along Ianto’s cheekbones, cupping the other man’s cheek, brushing his eyes shut, before bending to press a kiss to his slack lips.</p><p> </p><p>Something warm sparks near the base of Jack’s stomach, and it feels <em> golden </em> , like the light of time itself. He pours more of that light and warmth into the kiss, forcing it into Ianto, trying to push the cold away. Several terrifying moments pass by, and then <em> suddenly </em>, Ianto inhales sharply. His eyes flutter open, and they are dazed, bewildered, shocked.</p><p> </p><p>Moving back, Jack stares back down at Ianto, and slowly, his lips stretch into a relieved smile, but a loud clatter from across the Hub snatches both of their attention. Jack’s head whips around and finds the Cyberwoman mangling the internal wiring of the Rift Manipulator.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop!” he yells and dives for his Webley, firing off a shot that the metal plates covering the Cyberwoman’s abdomen only ricochets with a <em> ping </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly, the Cyberwoman faces Jack, eyes narrowed. “<em> You! </em>” she snarls. “I killed you.” Dropping her tools, she begins to advance towards him. Behind Jack, Ianto gasps quietly as he stumbles to his knees. Jack steps between Ianto and the Cyberwoman.</p><p> </p><p>“Joke’s on you.” Jack smirks. “I’m not that easy to kill you.” He fires another useless bullet at the Cyberwoman, but it bounces harmless off of her. “What do you want with the Rift?”</p><p> </p><p>The Cyberwoman cackles, grinning cruelly. “I want to create <em> chaos </em> . <em> Fear </em>. I survive off of it. If I cause enough chaos in this city, I will have a feast worthy of the gods.” She cocks her head. “Right after I drain the fear out of you and your team.”</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t succeed,” Jack warns her, staggering forward. He lifts his Webley and aims it right between her eyes. “I’ll stop you.” His fingers tighten on the trigger.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Ianto screams and lunges forward, knocking Jack back down again. They grapple against the ground they’d been lying dead on only moments previous, grunting and hissing.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not your enemy, Ianto,” Jack insists, trying to shove Ianto down. “I told you. She’s not Lisa Hallett. She’s just an alien, a shapeshifter! She wants to open the Rift and destroy Cardiff!”</p><p> </p><p>Ianto’s expression is warped with pain and determination; he is not listening to Jack. Despite his death and revival, this alien has still maintained a hold on his mind. “We can save her, Jack,” he cries, struggling against Jack’s grip.</p><p> </p><p>The Cyberwoman snarls, blue electricity arcing across her armor, but then there are three gunshots in rapid succession from behind Jack and Ianto, piercing her in the exposed area of the neck. Ianto screams, a horrid, bloodcurdling sound, but Jack succeeds in keeping him pinned down as Owen, Gwen, and Tosh, all three bruised and limping, advance into the Hub, firing repeated shots into the Cyberwoman until she stops gasping and twitching. She lays on the floor of the Hub, still, and then quickly dissolves into a pile of dust.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that makes cleanup quicker,” Owen quips, looking faintly stunned.</p><p> </p><p>Gwen glances around the Hub before her eyes settle on Jack and Ianto on the floor. “What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>In Jack’s grip, Ianto chokes briefly before inhaling sharply. When Jack looks back down at him, it’s like a filmy haze has been scrubbed from his blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened?” Ianto asks, bewildered, before realization shines on his face. “<em> Lisa </em>…” Slowly, he slumps back to the ground and weakly turns his face to the cement.</p><p> </p><p>“Secure the Rift Manipulator,” Jack tells Tosh gravely. “Owen, we need to look Ianto over.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>2006</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cardiff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Ianto</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It takes Owen only a few minutes of scanning Ianto and checking his vitals to declare, “You’re in peak condition, mate.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Jack’s brow furrows as he leans in to take a peek at Owen’s monitor. </p><p> </p><p>Owen nods. “He’s in shock, but other than that, not a sodding thing wrong with him.”</p><p> </p><p>Under Owen’s orders, Ianto is bundled in several warm blankets on the ugly brown couch and numbly watches the team clean and repair the Hub. Soldering mask on, Tosh kneels by the Rift Manipulator, blowtorch held in her gloved grip. Owen and Jack are checking damage throughout the rest of the base. Gwen is scrubbing away at the bloodstains on the floor from Lisa’s body...the Cyberwoman’s body, Ianto remembers. That wasn’t Lisa. Lisa died <em> months ago </em> at Canary Wharf. Ianto had failed to save her.</p><p> </p><p><em> This is my fault </em> , Ianto realizes. <em> An alien masquerading as Lisa nearly took over the Hub and gained access to the Rift, and she used me to do it </em>.</p><p> </p><p>His guilt is overwhelming, a heavy stone weighing down his chest. He bows his head, pulling his knees in closer. He wishes he could disappear. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?” Jack asks gently, coming up beside Ianto and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Ianto’s body yearns to lean into the touch, but he fights off the instinct.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” replies Ianto, and it’s so blatantly a lie. Thankfully, Jack doesn’t call him on it, but it doesn’t matter. A moment later: “I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>Seeing the Cyberwoman, seeing the alien wearing Lisa’s face as a Cyberwoman, Ianto’s worst fear, has dredged up demons from Canary Wharf he would have rather stayed buried.</p><p> </p><p>“Take some time off,” says Jack. “Four weeks.”</p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, Ianto glances up at him, and the concern and pity on Jack’s face is <em> too much </em>. Ianto can faintly remember the feel of the other man’s lips against his, but he can’t be sure if that’s something his desperate mind cooked up. “No, sir. I can’t….”</p><p> </p><p>“Four weeks,” Jack repeats, tone stern. This isn’t a suggestion. He’s ordering Ianto to take four weeks off. “Consider it a vacation, some well-needed time off.”</p><p> </p><p>After everything in the Hub has been put back to order, Jack walks Ianto back to his Audi. “Take care of yourself,” he tells the younger man.</p><p> </p><p>Ianto nods, thinking about how Mica likely waits for him at home with Tish, how close she'd have been to danger today if the Rift had been opened, and his guilt only grows. “I’ll try, sir.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find Nik on tumblr <a></a><a href="http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/">here</a> or on Twitter  <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik">here</a>. Find Kai on Twitter <a></a><a href="https://twitter.com/transjackianto">here</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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